


California King Bed

by StHarold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Short One Shot, a little bit, non-au, very random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StHarold/pseuds/StHarold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...with the curtains drawn and a little last night on these sheets"</p>
            </blockquote>





	California King Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote it the other night while listening to California Kind Bed by Rihanna. If you decide to give this a read, please listen to the song. It really does capture the mood and in some way gives a better understanding.  
> This is super short but I needed to write this down for my own sake.

Wrist to wrist. That's right. That's the way you were made to be. Together, sharing one bed. A warm embrace. Soft lips that feel like inside of a rose. Brown curls tickling your cheek. Green eyes caressing you just by looking at you. A smile that rips your heart open and puts the pieces back together, seamless. 

And no miles in between.

Skin to skin. Blue veins that lie too close to the surface. You love tracing those with your fingers. Your bronze skin contrasts so well with his pale. And you're in love with this combination. You call him your king and he smiles like he won a lottery. 

The night is young. It's chilly but all you can feel is warmth of his body against yours. 

You can feel lashes feathering against your neck and teeth biting softly into your collarbone. 

Reaching out and touching. A smile. And another one. And then some panting which is like music to your ears. You almost sure you could listen to this forever. 

Eye to eye. Those precious eyes you could never imagine existing. There's so much love in them, almost too much. You have to turn away so he doesn't see the tears threatening to fall. The blue in your own eyes looks like ice when you cry. You don't want him to get cold. You don't want to let go just yet.

 

So much distance between. 

3 AM and an unfinished bottle of something you don't remember the name of. The only thought you have, pulsing through your whole body is his name. Your drunken conscience can't even form a question, but already has a lot of answers. 

A made bed. Because you don't want to sleep in it alone. No lips to kiss. No curls to run fingers through. 

You want to know what he's doing. Or who he's doing. You don't believe in God but with you eyes shut, you have a pray. You don't have any tears left anymore. 

2PM. A call ripping through your dreams. Cold sweat on the back of your neck. Trying to open your eyes when you really don't want to. A raspy voice smiling at you through the cell phone and across the oceans. Light-hearted pun right off the bat. You feel alive again. "I love you so much" you almost say but you don't want to spoil the mood. A couple of standard questions. He likes it there on set. They all love him. Who wouldn't love him? You bite your lip. 

Everything hurts. 

\- you look so beautiful today.  
\- you can't even see me, Lou!  
As if you have to. 

He hangs up soon because he needs to go. And you need to get your shit together. But nothing feels right anymore. 

 

Dark room. It's night and it's too cold because the central heating inside of you is broken. He took that with him when he left. You don't blame him, no. but you have a hard time dealing. 

The door opens with a key. This must be a dream if you are lucky enough. 

Quiet steps matching your heartbeat. Too close. Then you can feel the bed sagging under the weight of other body. 

Soft hands on your shoulders. The smell of the perfume that you once chose. it's the only perfume he's been wearing ever since. 

One hand under your shirt, and the other in your hair. A whisper that is loud as a scream. At least in your book. Your name never sounded as good as it sounds in his mouth. 

Long fingers tracing your lips so tenderly, so carefully, so lovingly. 

You are pressed so close you can feel his heartbeat. This is your favorite feeling on earth, nothing can compare. 

A kiss pressed to your lips is so warm, you almost believe everything is okay.

You press your nose into his neck. He smells like the best things in the world.

You want to dissolve in him, press into him so hard that you just don't have to exist on your own anymore. You never want him to leave again. You don't want this dream to end. 

 

You finally open your eyes.  
This is not a dream. He's home ...and so are you.  
Arms tightly gripping around you. It finally clicks. 

Your breath is hitching. 2 months. You two broke all the rules. But here you are, on your California king bed. In the house you bought together. 

All you see is him, all you hear is him, all you feel is him. and this is your definition of happiness. 

\- Olive.  
The green in his eyes looks like a promise, you instantly believe. And if God ever forgave this world for all its sins, the color of those eyes would be the reason. The sound of his voice would be the reason. He would be the reason, because he would be the only one worth saving.  
A dimpled smile in return.

\- Olive.


End file.
